


Lay Me Down in Sheets of Linen

by comefeedtherainn



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 21:10:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16840483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comefeedtherainn/pseuds/comefeedtherainn
Summary: A collection of tuckington drabbles from tumblr. Mostly answers to prompt memes. In no particular order :D





	Lay Me Down in Sheets of Linen

The first time Tucker was trapped in a dark place was when he was eleven years old.

Some boys at school had been picking on him for something that he can’t quite remember, now – it varied based on which bully it was. Could be his hair, his voice, his clothes…something was always wrong with him.

Anyway.

The first time Tucker was trapped in a dark place was when he was eleven years old, and some bullies at school stuck him in a locker for a few hours. He’d never been afraid of the dark, before, never really had a night light or minded sleeping with his closet door open. But he had always hated being confined, and what better time to fear the dark than when you couldn’t move to escape or defend yourself? When you’ve got this horrible feeling that something is going to get you, that someone or something is there with you even though that’s impossible, and you can’t move your arms more than a couple of inches, and you can’t stand up all the way, and you can’t crouch the rest of the way because you can’t bend your legs, and-

 _Anyway_.

Tucker hated the dark. Even as a grown man, currently trapped inside of a ventilation shaft and cursing himself silently. Great fucking plan, Tucker, going through the vents like a fucking Bond movie and not accounting for the fact that not all vents could just be kicked open. Some of them had fun things like encrypted locks because, y’know, only dumbasses try a vent infiltration in real life. But Wash had promised he was coming back for him, his voice a gentle, crackling reassurance over comms. It had been a long time, and Tucker was starting to get hot, sweat rolling down his temples and into his eyes and he couldn’t move enough to take off his helmet and wipe it away…

But Wash had promised.

He closed his eyes as all at once, the calm he’d managed left him and he was panicking again, his eyes stinging and his breath coming shorter and he pressed his elbows and shoulders and knees against the confining walls, as if he could break out of the small shaft through sheer force. He couldn’t even get enough leverage to kick or punch, and he gasped and whined in frustration and fear. And then the vent before him opened, creating a square hole in the base of the shaft, and two hands gloved in steel and yellow striped armor reached up toward him.

Tucker scrambled forward, nearly free-falling out of the ventilation shaft and grunting as Wash’s strong hands caught him around the waist and lowered him safely to the ground. He tried to keep it together, but then Wash asked if he was okay, and fuck. Great. Now he was crying, and shaking, like a little bitch. Fantastic.

He felt less bad about it when Wash pulled off his helmet wrapped his arms around him and squeezed him tight, so he pushed his own helmet off and let it clatter to the ground as he returned the embrace with trembling arms.

“Th-thought you forgot,” he admitted weakly, his voice hoarse.

Wash pressed his lips to his temple, the kiss firm and fierce.

“Never.”


End file.
